


The Wandering Warrior of Light

by sylphiawings



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: ...hopefully haha, Gen, Gender-Neutral Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Minor Violence, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-07 22:17:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21225122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylphiawings/pseuds/sylphiawings
Summary: Years, decades, after the wars were ended and peace reigned, the tales and deeds of the Warrior of Light and their friends still ring true to adventurers in Eorzea seeking glory and power. Fortunately, the Wandering Minstrel was more than happy to retell their story with song - bar a few sacrifices along the way.Or, a new Wandering Minstrel comes to town, and people start wondering who this person is as more and more adventurers start disappearing.





	The Wandering Warrior of Light

♪ _The power to smite, the power to save,_  
_A desperate man did directly crave._  
_High though the price, in full he did pay._  
_Creating a god where his dead body lay._ ♪ 

From behind the counter across the Wandering Minstrel, the female Roegadyn bartender smiles bitterly as she wipes the washed shot glasses. The male Au Ra hummed along to the tune, sipping his tonic near the edge of the counter, slightly tipsy. It was a normal occurrence in the Seventh Heaven in Revenant's Toll, the Wandering Minstrel playing a ballad for some ambitious adventurers seeking a higher challenge. This time there were three such adventurers, their eyes starting to get glassy listening to the age-old song. 

♪ _The power to rise, the power to vie, _  
_A lonely man did madly desire,_  
_Forsook his flesh, for such was the toll_  
_Binding a god to his insatiable soul._ ♪ 

On the last note strummed, the adventurers' aether shifted and their eyes closed. In a few moments, their corporeal form will disappear into whatever pocket realm the Minstrel has planned for them, and they will fight whatever savage monster is inside there. 

Usually eight adventurers go in. Not all of them come back out. 

Whatever happens to those who are lost, only the survivors knew. 

However, no one can really blame the enigmatic musician. The adventurers come to the Minstrel knowing full well that they might not return, for the sake of pushing themselves to their utmost limits. This is well known to everyone in Eorzea - trading lives for untold power. Time and time again the Wandering Minstrel warned them, and time and time again those adventurers take the risk of listening to the Minstrel's Ballad. Should they lose themselves against the monster that awaits them, they only have themselves to blame. 

The only one who seems to ever mourn those who are lost is the Wandering Minstrel. 

No one quite knows who this person is. This was a new Minstrel than the one who wandered the realm for twenty or so years - the usual male, dark-haired Hyur replaced by his successor. Everything about this person is a mystery; their gender, their origins, their age. They always wore clothes that covered their entire being, and nothing about their attire betrayed their identity. Their voice, though hauntingly beautiful, were no indication of their age. After five years of donning the mantel from their predecessor, people have stopped wondering and started fearing. Who was this strange being who told songs and stories of untold power? 

One thing the denizens of Eorzea knew about them was that the new Wandering Minstrel tended to stay in Mor Dhona, taking the old Rising Stones as their humble abode, and that their ballads almost exclusively retold the tales of the famed Warrior of Light and their adventures, long after the famed hero has gone. 

Ripe picking for ambitious and greedy adventurers both, seeking glory, power, or something else. Mayhaps nostalgia for an era of a hero's past victories. 

"Shinryu, this time, eh?" the female Roegadyn called out from behind her bar, the bitter smile on her face replaced with a somber frown. The frequent patrons of the Seventh Heaven in Revenant's Toll, used to the many stories the Minstrel sings, have gotten good at identifying which monsters their songs always attributed to. Not even they could stop the adventurers from walking to their possible deaths. 

As the three adventurers were lulled to sleep and their corporeal bodies dissolving into aether, transporting them to the Minstrel Ballad's Domain, the Wandering Minstrel nodded. They walked across towards the counter and gestured for ale. "If at least one of them could come back, that would be fortuitous indeed," they said, deep sadness coating their words.

The male Au Ra from the other side of the bar scooted closer. "I dun'o, chief, after five years I'm beginnin' to think you enjoy sendin' those poor bastards to their early grave," he slurred as he sipped his cocktail.

The Wandering Minstrel bristled.

"Wouldn't you like to know," they said cryptically.

A few days passed, and one out of the three adventurers came back, a glazed look over her face. She drank away at the Seventh Heaven, drowning her sorrows. The female Mi'qote was the only one to come back alive from the Minstrel's Ballad. There was a hard set to her defined muscles and her control over her aether was significantly stronger, the battle definitely giving her a boost of power. But she had lost two of her lifelong friends, along with five other strangers who sought the same power as she.

She took over the male Au Ra's place on the bar, the man having disappeared since he last spoke to the Minstrel.  


* * *

  
This time, a full eight-man party of adventurers gathered around the Wandering Minstrel in the Seventh Heaven.

It's been almost a month since the last song the Minstrel sang, and yet, they seemed to be ready with their harp each time. Their voice melodious and soothing, it reverberated throughout the bar.

♪ _Into the flesh of darkness go bringers of light._  
_for the flame that flickers in Bahamut's tomb,_  
_In that cloying black stirs a raven white,_  
_Clawing blood from a barren womb._  
_What was slain in silver proud did in golden malice rise._  
_Metals of infamy and ruin, that every hero must despise._ ♪

The last strum of their harp, and the eight adventurers disappeared into the Minstrel Ballad's Domain.

The female Roegadyn was ready with the ale this time when the Wandering Minstrel plopped onto the bar counter, their countenance grim as they held the cup in a vice grip.

"Been a while since someone wanted to relive the Seventh Umbral Calamity," they said, downing the ale in one swift gulp.

The bartender said nothing. Though it was a lifetime ago, the scars from Bahamut's Teraflare still scorched the earth of Eorzea beneath their feet. Carteneau was still a wasteland, even today. The last time a band of adventurers were brave enough to face the memory of the strongest version of Bahamut, none came back alive. The Wandering Minstrel did not take that well. They kept inside the Rising Stones for a full month after that, coming out only for food and drink.

Despite sending many wide-eyed, hopeful adventurers to their deaths, they kept singing for them. Many in the Seventh Heaven wondered what kept them going.

Another sip of ale as the bar kept bustling. The Seventh Heaven workers and regular patrons knew better than to ask for answers. They were better off not knowing about it.

The door to the bar creaked open, and an elderly couple stepped into the premises. An Elezen man and woman, well into their old age, were clutching a piece of jewelry bearing a crest that connected them to the esteemed House Fortemps of Ishgardian nobility. Their faces looked distraught. The Seventh Heaven quieted just a tad seeing them walk in - their attire and their gait much too high-class for a bar in the middle of Mor Dhona.

A small hiccup sounded to the Wandering Minstrel's right - the female Mi'qote that survived Shinryu mere weeks before. She looked at the couple, recognition dawning on her face as they approached her.

"Where is our son?" the elderly man demanded to the female Mi'qote.

A frown etched her face as she briefly looked from the couple, to her mug of gin, to the Wandering Minstrel. "He's gone," she said, drinking her cup in one go.

"What? What do you mean, _gone?_" the elderly woman said, her voice close to breaking.

Another sip. "We wanted power," the female Mi'qote gestured sloppily in the direction of the Wandering Minstrel. "We paid that dearly. We were warned, but we didn't take heed."

The elderly couple said nothing as they gazed in the direction of the Wandering Minstrel. The Minstrel, to their credit, did not flinch as they stared back at the accusing glances of the noble couple. They must know who the Minstrel was - knew their reputation. No one in Eorzea would be that sheltered.

"He was heir to our house," the elderly man put a hand to his face. "He had all the power he wanted-"

"It wasn't enough," the female Mi'qote interjected. "Nothing ever was, not in the shadow of the deeds of the Warrior of Light."

At this, the Seventh Heaven died down into hushed whispers.

The Wandering Minstrel sighed. "I am deeply sorry for the loss of your son," they said. "But I warned him. I tried. I am sorry."

The elderly woman sobbed. "You _murderer,_" she spat.

The Wandering Minstrel bristled.

"Indeed," they said cryptically. The Seventh Heaven lapsed into silence.

"Bring him back," the elderly woman continued, tears streaming down her face, seemingly uncaring of how the atmosphere had changed.

After staring at the couple for a long time, the Wandering Minstrel stood and held their harp. They walked towards their abode, the door to the Rising Stones, and nodded. "If you wish to stop me," they said, their voice trembling, "bring me your best and do so."

The silence in the bar stretched as the Wandering Minstrel closed the door behind them, leaving the elderly couple in mourning tears.  


* * *

  
A few months later, a band of eight adventurers came into the bar of Seventh Heaven.

There was something different about them, something stronger than the previous adventurers who have entered here. The moment they stepped into the bar, there was a hum in the air, like a taut bowstring. One look at the group and you could tell they were more than a bunch of veteran adventurers. Their armor, and their weapons, and their scars, each told a story of their own.

The female Roegadyn bartender looked over to the Wandering Minstrel, and she doesn't think she's seen more expectation in their gaze.

Indeed, some of the adventurers have been at the Seventh Heaven before. Some patrons recognized them as previous survivors from the Minstrel's Ballad's Domain. The female Mi'qote from Shinryu, the male Au Ra that had disappeared months prior. An Elezen dragoon with the crest of House Fortemps on her chest accompanied them.

All eight adventurers stood in front of the Wandering Minstrel, who was still looking over them all, a glint in their eye. The band of adventurers bowed respectfully in front of them.

"We wish to undertake a trial," the leader of the eight adventurers spoke. A warrior Hyur with dark brown hair spoke, his giant axe behind him tainted with blood.

"Which one?" the Wandering Minstrel spoke, ready to give the warning they gave to all adventurers who sought them.

The Hyur warrior smiled. "You," he said.

The Seventh Heaven quieted.

The Wandering Minstrel smiled, eyebrow raised. The expectation on their face has turned into a subdued acceptance, as if they had been waiting for an eternity for this day to come. "I see," they said. "Finally."

When the Minstrel raised their harp, the band of adventurers bristled. Some held their weapons tight. No warnings were given. Not this time.

♪ _Of scorched flared earth, a realm reborn,_  
_Of a dragon's centuries-old revenge, eyes turned heavensward._  
_Of a war of east and west, fields ravaged in storms of blood,_  
_Of a shard filled with light, the Bringer of Shadows come._ ♪

Light surrounded the band of adventurers and the Wandering Minstrel, this time transporting them onto a single platform of crystal blue. Markings of shards and planets in golden yellow adorned the circular platform, suspending above an endless drop into the black aetherial sea.

The eight adventurers stood vigilant on one end of the platform, their weapons raised. On the other end, the Wandering Minstrel stood alone against them, their harp gone, replaced by a myriad of weapons suspended in mid-air behind them. The sheer pressure from the Wandering Minstrel left the band of adventurers' entire being screaming with the instinctual habit to flee and survive, but all eight stood their ground.

When the Wandering Minstrel shed their cloak and revealed their form, all of the adventurers stared in open-mouthed shock save one. There wasn't a soul in Eorzea - nay, the world - who didn't know that form. Frequently drawn in museums and history books long after peace has reigned, the one person all adventurers dreamed of following in their footsteps.

The warrior Hyur gave the Minstrel a somber smile. "So it was you," he said, lowering his guard just slightly. "The Warrior of Light."

Said Warrior of Light nodded, returning the Hyur's smile. "Long have I waited for adventurers like you to end my journey," they said.

"I see," the Hyur nodded. "Is that why you kept singing? Giving us challenges? Even though, despite your warnings, we would seek them regardless of threat of death?"

The Warrior of Light sighed, their eyes glazed over with regret and sorrow. "Not a day goes by that I do not mourn those who are lost." They took one weapon behind them - a warrior's axe - and gripped it. "But for those who have survived, you all were granted the power to defeat me. Five years of hoping did not disappoint, after all."

"Why do you want to be defeated?" the Hyur asked. "You're our hero."

The Warrior of Light shook their head. "A war-time hero is not needed in times of peace," they said. "Those require a new set of heroes, those that can forge a better future. One that doesn't simply require strength and might."

The Elezen dragoon stepped forward. "You still could be considered a murderer for your actions," she said. "All those lives just to prepare for them to end yours?"

The Warrior of Light smiled, though the act did not reach their eyes. "Then stop me, unless you wish for more death on my hands."

The crystal platform glowed, and the Warrior of Light donned their armor, a steely fire behind their gaze. The eight adventurers readied their weapons, preparing themselves for a long fight.

This would not be easy. Fighting the single most famed warrior in all the lands, for the one who has stopped calamities, felled eikons, killed Ascians. But they must be stopped. Those glory days were long gone, a time of turmoil and strife a bygone era. No more would adventurers seek their deaths by the Wandering Minstrel's hands.

At the first clash of the Warrior of Light versus the eight brave adventurers, the Minstrel's Ballad's Domain shook with the force of thirteen shards breaking apart.  


* * *

  
The female Roegadyn behind the bar counter in the Seventh Heaven wiped her glasses clean, humming a familiar tune that used to resound throughout the bar. A single, lonely harp stood propped above the wall near the case of liquor, the strings worn from disuse. It's been years since that harp was played, its master long gone. Maybe it was for the better.


End file.
